


set you apart

by prettyhearse



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BACK AT IT AGAIN, F/F, Pre-Canon, a bit more romantic than last time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 11:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyhearse/pseuds/prettyhearse
Summary: Moira tries to calm her nerves before a conference. Angela is impatient.





	set you apart

**Author's Note:**

> still on my moircy bullshit. i should be working on my nanowrimo project but i can't stop thinking about my science wives. anyways, here's another little moircy thing that isn't too angsty. hope you enjoy!

“Moira, can you hurry up? I’m freezing,” Angela muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets. 

 

“Says the Swiss woman,” Moira chuckles as she takes another drag of her cigarette. “Can’t a girl enjoy her cigarette break?” 

 

“I wouldn’t mind- if it wasn’t minus fifteen degrees out.” 

 

Moira nods, rolling her cigarette between her fingers in contemplation.“Fair enough. You can go inside if you want.” 

 

Angela shook her head and sighed. “I don’t want to go in there alone. They’ll swarm me otherwise.” 

 

“Oh Jesus, I can imagine,” Moira rolled her eyes. “Those journalists love it when you’re on your own.” 

 

“Don’t remind me” Angela pulled her scarf up to cover her face. “At least if you’re with me, then they’re less likely to bother me.” 

 

“Oh, I’m not  _ that  _ scary looking, am I?” Moira joked and Angela cursed at herself. 

 

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” she covered her face with her hands. “They tend not to attack me if I look busy.”

 

Moira exhaled deeply and laughed. “I’m almost tempted to go back to the hotel. This is the last place I want to be right now.” 

 

“Jet lag?” Angela asked, coughing as she breathed in a lungful of smoke.

 

As she took another drag, Moira paused. “... Yeah, yeah, that’s it. I’m almost out of smokes too.” 

 

Angela could see right through her (she always did), but didn’t want to start probing now, right before a conference. An argument out on the street was the last thing either of them needed. She reached over and gave Moira’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “We’ll leave straight after, I promise.” 

 

Moira smiled at her wanly. “I’m just not a people person, you know that.” 

 

“I know, I know. The later we go in, the less time people will have to talk to us,” Angela reminded her.

 

“But I don’t want to be keeping you out here in the cold with me,” Moira paused and then looked over at Angela with a grin. “Unless…” 

 

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Angela whined, struggling as Moira tightly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, her lit cigarette still held loosely between her lips. “Moira, get that cigarette  _ away _ from me!” 

 

“Ah, you’re so precious, Angela,” Moira said as she pulled her cigarette out of her mouth and threw it on the ground, stubbing it out with her heel. “There, is that better?” 

 

“Thank you,” Angela sniffed, her little pout making Moira snigger. 

 

The two were silent then. Moira still had her arm tight around Angela and Angela seemed to lean into her embrace. The closeness of it all filled the void the waste of perfectly good nicotine left. Although, another feeling filled them both; one of awkwardness and a certain, indefinable discomfort.

 

It was possibly the most intimate moment they’d had in the 4 years they’d known each other and they were sharing it in a rundown alley in St. Petersburg. Neither of them knew what to say, but they both knew they should say something.

 

“The smell of smoke off you is ungodly,” Angela eventually muttered, turning her face away. 

 

Moira snorted. “Ever the charmer, Dr. Ziegler.” 

 

“I’m just telling the truth. You promised you’d try and give them up last month.” 

 

“You said the same about  _ your  _ little friends too but you don’t see me complaining when you couldn’t stay awake on the plane over here.”

 

Both of them went silent again, Angela freezing up in Moira’s arms and Moira feeling her chest tighten a bit. 

 

“I’m sorry, Angie,” she whispered, looking down at her discarded cigarette. “I didn’t mean it like that, I-” 

 

“It’s fine, it’s fine, you’re right,” Angela turned to face her again. Moira smiled down at her and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 

 

“We should probably go in soon,” Moira said, quickly looking away to glance at her watch. 

 

“Mhm,” Angela nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. “Moira?” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

Angela hesitated, but then stood up on her toes, reaching up to give Moira a quick peck on her lips. She quickly pulled away and stepped back, not daring to make eye contact with Moira. 

 

‘ _ I can’t believe you just did that _ ,’ she thought to herself, but despite the almost unbearable embarrassment coming over her, she still felt a bit proud. She was the one getting the last laugh for once. She turned her back to Moira, making sure she couldn’t see the blush forming on her cheeks.

 

Moira just stood there, shocked, her fingers ghosting over where Angela’s chapped lips had just been. She scolded herself for not making the first move, but almost enjoyed having someone else take the initiative. 

 

She’d never tell Angela that though. 

 

“You need some mints,” Angela said as she started walking down the alley towards the main street. “I’m sure just the smell of tobacco off your breath is enough to get even me addicted.” 

 

“You’ve some way with words, Angie,” Moira called, following behind her. “I’ve some lip balm in my bag if you want some. Your lips are drier than Jack’s sense of humour.” 

 

Angela spluttered at her joke, turning around to grin at her. “You’re terrible, Moira.” 

 

“I’m not wrong though,” she added as she reached into her pocket and threw her chapstick to Angela. “Don’t worry, I don’t have anything contagious.” 

 

“That’s a relief,” Angela said as she applied it to her lips. “Thanks. I don’t have any mints to give you, unfortunately.” 

 

“Ah, it’s not that bad, is it?” Moira took the chapstick off Angela once she caught up with her, sliding her arm around her shoulders again. “Here, I’ll just use this.” 

 

“You’re unbelieveable,” Angela stared at her as she pulled her flask out and took a quick swig out of it before they turned the corner out onto the street. “And  _ you’re _ supposed to be representing the science department of Overwatch?” 

 

“You’re acting like I’m walking in here stoned out of my mind, Angela,” Moira said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m just trying to calm my nerves. I have my way and you have yours.” 

 

“Alright, whatever,” Angela threw her hands up in defeat. “Okay, get off me for now, before any journalists see us.” 

 

“Oh Christ, can you imagine the headlines?! ‘Overwatch’s Angela Ziegler Has Sexual Relations with Ginger Alcoholic in St. Petersburg’, it would be hilarious.” 

 

“I’m sure Jack wouldn’t mind,” Angela added with a smirk. “It would take some of the attention away from him.” 

 

“Nah, they’d still find a way to bring him into it,” Moira pulled away from Angela, but still stood close, so their fingers just barely brushed off each other. “I suppose we should go in now, or else the press will have a six page report on our terrible punctuality out by tomorrow.” 

 

“Good idea. And we’re out of here the second the presentation ends, right?” 

 

“Hopefully we can slip out before hand. Have we got assigned seating or could we hide at the back?” Moira asks as they approach the doors of the building.

 

“Front row,” Angela mutters as she pushes the glass doors open, keeping her head down as she spots two people wielding notebooks and cameras. “Walk fast.” 

 

The two scurried past the pair of journalists, who were quick to pounce as they tried to make their way to the conference room. 

 

“We’ll be answering questions afterwards,” Angela said in her best sweet voice, a smile plastered onto her face. Moira said nothing as she urged Angela in through the meeting room’s door, shielding her from the two reporters before slipping in the doors herself.

 

“The conference hasn’t even started,” Angela said, her voice low as she and Moira walked through the rows of seats, keeping close to the walls. “And they’re already getting ready to interrogate us.” 

 

Once they found their seats at the top of the room, Angela took a quick look around. “Just don’t make eye contact with anyone. I think I saw one of my old professors and I’d rather not start talking to him.” 

 

“Don’t worry,” Moira said. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 

 

They were quiet. Angela stared at the freshly painted walls and Moira stared down at the carpet. Angela took another look around to see if there was anyone else she knew and Moira counted out filters in the palm of her hand for later. 

 

“Angela?” 

 

“Yes?” Angela turned back to face her, noticing the way Moira stared at the wall behind her instead.

 

“Why did you kiss me earlier?” 

 

Angela paused, watching the way Moira’s eyes flickered. “I just wanted to.” 

 

“I see,” Moira’s voice was flat and it made Angela’s breath catch in her throat. “I’m glad you did.” 

 

She breathed a sigh of relief before she spoke again. “Why?” 

 

“What kind of question is that?” Moira asked, sniggering.

 

“A valid one?” 

 

Moira looked down, smiling at the floor. “I don’t know. Just am. Why did  _ you  _ want to kiss me?” 

 

“I don’t know either.” 

 

Silence again.

 

“So what now?” Angela whispered. 

 

The two looked at each other and smiled. “I don’t know,” they said in unison and laughed.

 

As the main speaker walked out in front of the projector and more people began to take their seats, Moira leaned in and whispered, “Do you, uh, want to get a drink afterwards?” 

 

“I was thinking you could come back to my hotel room,” Angela whispered back, not taking her eyes off the man now speaking into the microphone. 

 

“Jesus,” Moira elbowed her. “Where’s this Angela been for the past four years?” 

 

“Right here,” Angela whispered and flashed her a grin, winking. 

 

"Well, I'm glad I finally got to meet her." 

**Author's Note:**

> this kind of happened to me except instead of getting a kiss, the girl cut our date short and blocked me on tinder because she doesn't date smokers. also shout out to my vape pen for getting me through the editing of this tobacco-free.


End file.
